


Peppermint Tea

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Reverse Big Bang, Romance, professors au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: Obi-Wan had always imagined the ambience of being a professor; dimmed wooden studies filled with books and papers as he worked on what he was most passionate about past dusk; a smell of parchment and old tomes; the smell of a burning candle mixing with the aroma of his hot mug of tea; wrinkled jumpers and glasses perched on the ends of noses; maybe even a lit hearth if he was lucky with the office he was given.The reality was rather different to Obi-Wan’s rose-tinted fantasies.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 132
Collections: Backwards QuiObi Bang





	Peppermint Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MidnightDelirium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightDelirium/gifts).



> For the wildly talented [Midnight](https://midnightdelirium.tumblr.com/), i hope it is what you had in mind <3

Obi-Wan had always imagined the ambience of being a professor; dimmed wooden studies filled with books and papers as he worked on what he was most passionate about past dusk; a smell of parchment and old tomes; the smell of a burning candle mixing with the aroma of his hot mug of tea; wrinkled jumpers and glasses perched on the ends of noses; maybe even a lit hearth if he was lucky with the office he was given. 

The reality was rather different to Obi-Wan’s rose-tinted fantasies. 

The reality, was long work days grading papers of students that clearly hadn’t even been listening in his lecture, it was the sharp smell of coffee to keep himself awake, it was jumpers not because they were cosy but because there was an awful draft in the old building, and it was the unpleasant musty smell of old books in a badly ventilated room. 

The ambience also included coughing students suffering from whatever brand of freshers’ flu that year was bringing, as students from across the country all came together like a giant petri dish of germs. This year they had managed to infect Obi-Wan, which was not adding to his amusement. Why was it you never truly appreciated the act of breathing through your nose until you could no longer do it?

So Obi-Wan’s face felt hot, his nose was both completely blocked and somehow perpetually running, his eyes were red rimmed, tired, and sporting delightful bags, and even the smallest movement felt like a gargantuan effort. And it was long past eight in the evening. And his cold office was probably not helping him to get better. 

But he was determined to finish grading the first assignment from his introduction to poetry class, mostly so that he never had to read another comparison between Tennyson and Browning ever again - or until next year, at least. He loved poetry, as was practically a prerequisite for an english professor, but every year his first years seemed to believe that he was unaware that those two particular poets are on the school syllabus, and they were simply regurgitating something they’d written the year previously. 

With a sigh and drooping eyes, Obi-Wan scrawled the last bit of red pen over the final commentary in the pile, placed it with the others and tried to gather enough energy to haul himself up from his desk - it took longer than he would like to admit.

Feeling as though gravity had a personal grudge against him, Obi-Wan scooped up his messenger back, rubbed ruthlessly at his eyes and then pushed his glasses back up his nose. He was glad he lived within walking distance, because he definitely shouldn’t be getting behind the wheel of a car in his tired state, and wondered if the planet would forgive him if he poured himself into a taxi. 

He gathered up the few books that wouldn’t fit into his bag, silently promised to plant a tree in his dreadfully neglected garden, and shouldered his way out of his office - and directly into two people walking past his office door.

On any other day Obi-Wan wouldn’t have dropped his books, and he certainly wouldn’t have stumbled badly enough that a pair of strong -  _ large _ \- hands had to reach out and steady him to stop him winding up as a pile of uncoordinated limbs on the floo; but his cold was making him dizzy, and that was exactly what happened.

“Blast, sorry,” Obi-Wan muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment and having to close his eyes and squeeze the bridge of his nose for a second to regain his equilibrium as his sinuses screamed at him from the slight change in altitude before he’d been caught. 

“Obi-Wan? Are you alright?” The soft voice of professor Tahl greeted him, although they were definitely not her hands currently supporting him. It forced him to blink open his eyes and immediately flush - which would hopefully be attributed to his cold - when he found none other than Tahl’s distractingly attractive friend keeping him upright. 

Professor Qui-Gon Jinn, the tenured bio professor of over twenty years who Obi-Wan had been hunting down scraps of information on like a lovesick teenager since he had first seen him having lunch with Tahl at the end of last year. It was either a blessing or a curse that the biology and english departments were nowhere near each other. 

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I’ve just had the misfortune of catching this year’s bout of freshers’ flu. It’s got me a bit off balance,” Obi-Wan said, wishing his voice didn’t sound so stuffy with cold. Hardly attractive - why did it have to be  _ today _ that he quite literally walked into Qui-Gon. 

“Give it a few more years and you’ll become immune,” Qui-Gon smiled, squeezing Obi-Wan’s arm in a friendly gesture before letting him go. 

“You say that but I’ve been a professor for almost six years now,” Obi-Wan grumbled, he’d been told the same thing by at least one person every year since he had started. 

“Proving my point, you’re still very young,” Qui-Gon smiled, but before Obi-Wan could protest - thirty two hardly  _ felt _ young at least, not when he dealt with eighteen to twenty three year olds all day - he tilted his head to the side and continue. “You’ve been here for six years? I find it hard to believe I wouldn’t have noticed you by now.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan blushed furiously, wondering exactly how much of it would be plausibly because of his illness. “Um, no I’ve been here for four of my six years.”

“How neglectful of me,” Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan knew his face was flaming, no idea how to respond with how sluggishly his brain was working, caught on how badly he wanted those big hands back on his and wondering what that long hair would feel like between his fingers. 

He was relieved, when Tahl laughed and slapped a hand against Qui-Gon’s chest. 

“Stop it you. You’ve not even introduced yourself,” she laughed, looping her arm through Qui-Gon’s even though Obi-Wan knew she was perfectly able to seamlessly navigate her way through these familiar halls, not a single loose floorboard unknown to her. 

“Neglectful again!” Qui-Gon gasped dramatically, clutching his chest and making Obi-Wan helpless again a small giggle. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn, professor of biology, though I far prefer the herbalism class I teach on the side. Plants are rather fascinating and I think science limits what they are capable of.”

“Careful, you’ll scare him off with your wishy washy new age stuff, you’re supposed to be a respectable scientist,” Tahl teased, tugging at Qui-Gon’s hair and laughing as he scowled. 

“I resent that. And if anything it should be considered very old age, not new.”

“Very old age is definitely something that occurs when looking at you,” Tahl quipped and Qui-Gon pinched her side and Obi-Wan felt a little like he was intruding, but then Qui-Gon turned back to him.

“Ignore her, her head is too full of sonnets to be of any use. You’re here late?”

“I wanted to finish some grading,” Obi-Wan said, feeling exceptionally boring next to a pair of such animated friends, finding new ways to be intimidated by Qui-Gon Jinn, beyond the obvious.

“The hound that dogs all of our heels. Well, except Tahl, she has a convenient excuse to have post grads do all of hers.”

“I’m blind!” She huffed indignantly. “And I have a lot of oral assessments for my classes to compensate.”

“Yes dear,” Qui-Gon said, patting her hand absently and Obi-Wan suddenly wondered if he was being particularly foolish by...coveting Qui-Gon since he’d first seen him those months ago. “Done for the day now though, I hope?”

“Yes, yes. Um, why are you both still here? Sorry it’s none of my business,” Obi-Wan felt suddenly embarrassed at his weak attempt to make conversation. 

“No need to apologise Obi-Wan,” Tahl smiled at him. “Every Thursday this one descends on the english department and regales me with the week's bio lab mishaps while we eat an inadvisable amount of pizza.”

“The first week of a new year is always an exciting one in the labs.”

“Bio students have far more opportunity to get into mischief than ours do, even when I set limericks ours try to be polite and erudite,” Tahl sighed, looking very amused. “Do you want a lift home Obi-Wan, you don’t drive do you? It’s not that warm out this time of night and you don’t want to aggravate your cold.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, it’s not a long walk,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“Nonsense, Qui-Gon is driving me home as well and you live nearby don’t you?” 

“Um, Saddlers Street?” Obi-Wan said, not entirely certain where Tahl lived, and from the amused look on Qui-Gon’s face, Saddlers Street was not all that close by. “Sorry, I really can walk.”

“I simply cannot allow it,” Qui-Gon smiled at him, a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made his entire face so warm and soft Obi-Wan knew he was never going to forget it. “I’m in no hurry, I’m happy to drive you home Obi-Wan.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan tentatively accepted and was promptly swept along by the pair, out the labyrinth of an old building and to Qui-Gon’s car - a beaten up old thing that looked like it was unlikely to even make it out of the car park, let alone to his house.

“You take the front Obi-Wan, I’m the first stop,” Tahl said, a hint of mischief in her voice as she climbed into the backseat. 

“Meddler,” Qui-Gon muttered as he buckled himself into the drivers seat and Obi-Wan grew embarrassed again as he had a fight with his own stiff seatbelt. “That one is a little finickity - ”

“Ancient,” Tahl grinned from the back. 

“- thank you Tahl, yes it’s old. You have to tug it, no angle your hand a little, oh here let me do it,” Qui-Gon sighed, and then he apologised and Obi-Wan and he had half a second to wonder why Qui-Gon was apologising before he was quite thoroughly leaning into Obi-Wan’s space to get a good grip on the seat belt. 

Qui-Gon was close enough that his long hair was brushing against Obi-Wan just a little, and it was suddenly explicitly clear to Obi-Wan just how much  _ bigger _ Qui-Gon was than him. By the time Qui-Gon had the seat belt loose and was plugging him in, Obi-Wan knew there were two high spots of colour in his cheeks. 

“There,” Qui-gon said in that low rumbly voice of his that poured directly down Obi-Wan’s spine.

“Thanks,” Obi-Wan squeaked, wondering if his voice could be put down to his cold too, and then pulling his scarf up to try and stop his germs spreading through the car. He thought he heard Tahl sniggering from the back and his embarrassment ramped up again.

Qui-Gon and Tahl filled the silence on the way to her house, bickering over pizza toppings and Obi-Wan got a little bit of hope from the fact that they at least didn’t live together, and they did seem just like very good friends. Not that that meant someone as impressive as Qui-Gon would take a second long at him, especially with his first impression riddled with cold. In fact it would probably be better if Obi-Wan’s fantasies were killed in their cradle, to save him from future embarrassment. 

“Goodnight boys. Be good, remember Obi-Wan early night, you’re poorly after all,” Tahl grinned at them as Qui-Gon pulled the car over at the little gate to her house. 

“Goodnight Tahl.”

“Goodnight bane and balm of my life,” Qui-Gon said, kissing her cheek as she leaned through the drivers window. “Give Sadie my love.”

“Only if you give Winkle mine!” She called back as she walked down the little path to her house.

“Winkle?” Obi-Wan asked as Qui-Gon pulled away again. 

“My dog, Periwinkle, I rescued her a few years ago, I didn’t name her I promise,” Qui-Gon laughed, running a hand through his hair and making Obi-Wan jealous of his hand even as he couldn’t help buck chuckle. “She’s a grumpy old bag and the love of my life. Fortunately she is too old to be interested in digging up my garden, my herbs couldn’t take it.”

“You grow things?” 

“Yes, I’m lucky enough to have a little garden, I grow a lot of my own herbs there for my course, though I keep enough for myself too.”

“I’ve never really paid much attention to herbs. I’m not much of a chef,” Obi-Wan said, thinking, a little ashamed, of the microwavable meals he practically lived off. 

“Well, you’ll have to let me cook for you some time, maybe when your taste buds are working again. But herbs aren’t just for cooking, you might find some very useful for getting rid of that cold of yours.”

“Oh?” 

“Yes, but it’s probably a little late to go out and get some now,” Qui-Gon said, the clock inching towards 9pm. 

“Maybe you could write me a list?” Obi-Wan suggested, and Qui-Gon beamed at him. 

“Yes I think I will. I’d like to know what you sound like normally, and to talk to you when you don’t feel so exhausted and ill.”

“I’m okay,” Obi-Wan mumbled, because in truth he did feel a lot better for speaking with Qui-Gon, and feeling a little shy around the charming older man. He could be charming himself, might have made an attempt at it had he met Qui-gon on any other day, but the older man was right, and today he was just exhausted. 

“I’m sure you are, but I would still like you to get well soon.”

“You really didn’t have to drive me all the way home,” Obi-Wan said after a few beats of surprisingly comfortable silence, and Qui-Gon asking for a couple of directions to jog his memory. 

“You’re right I didn’t, I simply wanted to,” Qui-Gon replied, offering Obi-Wan a tissue seamlessly as he was just about to sneeze. “Bless you.”

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan muttered, thinking of what a disastrous picture he made. He’d thought about how he would like to meet Qui-Gon more than once, and it had never been like this. 

“You shouldn’t apologise so much, especially when there is nothing to apologise for,” Qui-Gon said gently, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was relieved or sad when they turned into his road. 

“Still, I feel like I need to make it up to you somehow.”

“The pleasure of your company is repayment enough.”

“That was cheesy.”

“Yes well, it was also earnest so I can get away with it,” Qui-Gon replied, pulling up next to Obi-Wan’s little house.

“Well, goodnight Qui-Gon, thank you for the lift,” Obi-Wan said, even though it felt entirely insufficient. 

“Goodnight Obi-Wan, I hope you get a good night's rest and feel a little better tomorrow.”

“The cold has rather been robbing me of sleep, but I will try,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile that dampened Qui-Gon’s frown a little.

Qui-Gon waited until Obi-Wan was safely inside his house before he pulled away, a gesture that made Obi-Wan run warm from something other than his burning sinuses. It was going to be nearly impossible for him to think of anything - or anyone - else for days.

Sadly, Obi-Wan thought, this had only been a chance encounter, he was hardly likely to see Qui-Gon again, no matter his kind words of offering food and a list of herbs, catching sight of himself in a mirror Obi-Wan found it hard to believe that Qui-Gon was being anything other than polite and naturally charming. 

\----------

“Obi-Wan! Is that you?” Tahl greeted him as he came through the door into the department the next morning. 

“Morning Tahl,” Obi-Wan replied, trying to get his coat off without dripping too much rain about the place, the building was old and wooden and took on an unpleasant smell when too much water was walked inside.

“Feeling any better?” 

“Not really,” Obi-Wan answered honestly, he hadn’t slept well, because of his cold and the fact that his mind insisted on replaying every silly thing he had said and done in Qui-Gon’s presence - why did he have to finally show up when Obi-Wan was ill.

“You will,” Tahl smiled at him, disappearing into the professor’s lounge before Obi-Wan could ask her what she meant. 

He hauled himself up the stairs to his office, his sinuses complaining at him with every step and wanted to collapse back into his bed by the time he got the door to his office open. Obi-Wan sighed, hung up his bag and coat and braced himself for a miserable day when he noticed a wicker box with a little card of paper on top sat on his desk. Intrigued, Obi-Wan walked over to it and inspected the card. 

_ Obi-Wan,  _

_ I promised you a list but I had most things in my garden, I hope it makes you feel a little better, there are instructions on how to use everything inside. _

_ Qui-Gon _

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop his smile when he realised that Qui-Gon had left him some herbs, his handwriting was a chicken-scratch scrawl that Obi-Wan knew students must bitch about having to read, but he was able to make out every word without trouble. 

He tipped back the lid on the box and couldn’t help the hand that reached up to his lips, the soft  _ oh _ as he took in the contents, possibly the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. There was peppermint tea and an infusion for hot water to clear his sinuses, sage for his cold more generally with an apologetic note that it was a little bitter and instructions on how to turn it into an inhalation, rosemary for the headache a bad cold always brought with it, and chamomile tea to help him sleep. 

Then tucked away in neat containers was what was labelled as mint raita, all the ingredients labelled clearly in case of allergies and a note explaining that it was very fresh and might help soothe his sinuses and throat. And in another was home made thyme and cherry bark cough syrup, which Qui-Gon’s terrible handwriting told him should settle his chest. 

Something just under Obi-Wan’s ribcage ached while his stomach was busy doing butterflies and he wasn’t too sure how to reconcile the two feelings, so instead he took the peppermint tea with him and went to boil the kettle. He opened the tin in the kitchen and was greeted by a fresh feeling and a smell that  _ just _ made it through his stuffy nose, and had to look around the kitchen for the tea strainer as he was met with loose leaves rather than tea bags - which made sense when he realised Qui-Gon said everything in the box had come from his own garden. 

“I see you found your gift,” Tahl greeted him again, breathing in heavily through her nose. “I love the smell of his peppermint leaves.”

“I wish I could smell it properly,” Obi-Wan replied as he made his drink. “Would you like a cup?”

“Yes but I think Qui-Gon would yell for a week if I took any of the stuff he made just for you,” Tahl teased, and Obi-Wan blushed as the leaves stained the water a colour like sunset. 

“He really grows all that himself?” 

“Yes. And it took me  _ years _ to convince him to let me try his herbs - and don’t worry, that isn’t a euphemism,” she winked at him, and then disappeared back to her office, leaving Obi-Wan feeling a little flustered. 

He tried out the various things Qui-Gon had made for him throughout the day, relieved to find that all the various herbs with their different uses did alleviate his symptoms, smiling at the nice aroma the teas and infusions were making throughout the day as he was actually able to smell them with his newly cleared sinuses. 

It wasn’t a cure, but it did make Obi-Wan’s day much easier, and the chamomile even helped him to sleep properly the next night. As he could feel his cold beginning to genuinely ease, Obi-Wan started to wondered exactly how he could repay such a thoughtful kindness, and how childish it would be if he asked Tahl to pass on a note for him. She’d find some way to read it, he was sure of it. 

He held off making an honest attempt to find Qui-Gon again, finally feeling free of his cold by the time Thursday rolled around again, and trying not to find himself too ridiculous as he took extra care when he got dressed that morning. Qui-Gon and Tahl met every Thursday, which meant that Obi-Wan would be able to find him and thank him, rather than stumbling aimlessly through the biology department looking like a random student with a crush as he asked after Doctor Jinn. 

So Obi-Wan combed his hair, groomed his beard, convinced himself to put in contact lenses even though he didn’t like them one bit, put on his nicest slacks and one of his smarter jumpers after admitted to himself that getting hypothermia because he’d dressed too nicely to withstand the near-nuclear winter of his office was probably not the best move. 

All in all he thought he looked fairly nice, and he didn’t look too frazzled by the end of the day either. His office, cold as it was, smelt like peppermint tea now, as he poured himself cup after cup of the stuff, and the musty smell of  _ old _ in the room was drowned out by a far more pleasant one. 

He checked himself over in a mirror when the clock reached seven, fairly sure Qui-Gon would be in Tahl’s office, reminded himself not to be ridiculous, and set off down the hall. As he approached the door he heard laughing from inside, and worried for a few seconds about intruding where he was not welcome, before wondering if intruding would be more rude or less rude than yet more time passing before he could thank Qui-gon properly for his gift. 

In the end enough time passed with him worrying over what would be better than the door opened and an unsuspecting Qui-Gon walked directly into him and knocked Obi-Wan over, catching him in those strong arms that Obi-Wan wondered if he’s actually swooned for a moment. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Qui-Gon said, smiling down at Obi-Wan with that crinkly smile of his. 

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan grimaced, blushing already - really could he not go ten seconds in this man’s presence - and moving to stand, his blush growing as Qui-Gon’s hand stayed on his arm. 

“On the contrary, I bumped into you.”

“Obi-Wan is that you? Did you need something?” Tahl called, throwing a balled up piece of paper at the back of Qui-Gon’s head that he promptly threw back at her, muttering  _ meddler _ under his breath, which she grinned at. 

“No, I just wanted to say thank you to Qui-Gon and knew he’d be here,” Obi-Wan replied, hoping that that didn’t sound weird. He was a thirty two year old with a PhD, he shouldn’t be so anxious over a conversation with a handsome man anymore, and yet. 

“Well you’re sounding much better, I hope I helped a little,” Qui-Gon smiled, laying his hand over Obi-Wan’s forehead and smiling at the normal temperature he found there - opposed to Obi-Wan’s cheeks, which were burning. 

“More than a little. I’m not sure how to sufficiently thank you,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to melt under the steady,  _ interested _ gaze Qui-Gon was pinning him under with his blue eyes. 

He looked good today, he always looked good, but today his particularly tall frame was wrapped up in a tweed jacket that accentuated how broad his chest was, a mossy green jumper underneath that looked so soft Obi-Wan wanted to sink into it and never come up for air. 

“There is no need to thank me, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan got the impression the older man said his name simply because he enjoyed doing so. 

“Let him take you to dinner tomorrow!” 

“Tahl!” Qui-Gon griped, turning back towards the office and unceremoniously closing the door, which did nothing to drown out her laughter. 

“You still need to give me a ride home!” She called, muffled by the door and making Qui-Gon pinch the bridge of his nose and Obi-Wan cover his mouth with his hand as he giggled. 

“She’s a menace, but she’s also right. I would love to take you to dinner, if you’d allow it.”

“I would like that,” Obi-Wan said, feeling shy again and knowing they were standing a little too close. “Though it seems as though I’m getting off easily, you give me such a thoughtful gift and then I also get taken to dinner by the most eligible bachelor on campus?”

“I think you might have me beaten for that accolade,” Qui-Gon replied, leaning a little more into Obi-Wan’s space, reminding him of how easily Qui-Gon could encompass him, and now that his nose was clear he could could  _ smell _ him - musky and woodsy and so so gloriously masculine. 

“I still owe you thank you.” Obi-Wan shamelessly looked up at him through his lashes and bit at his lip, knowing how red it went, a thrill running through him as he was close enough to see Qui-Gon’s eyes dilate and flick down to his lips.

“If it will make you feel better,” Qui-Gon murmured, his deep voice gone even lower, the corridor feeling exceptionally quiet all of a sudden, he could hear them both breathing. “I can think of one thing.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan tried his best to sound innocent, and his breath caught when Qui-Gon ducked down and closed the last few inches between them to press a chaste kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. 

Obi-wan wanted to deepen the kiss, but Qui-Gon’s hands and lips were commanding, kept it chaste and Obi-Wan could feel his smile when Obi-Wan tried to get more. Their beards bristled together and Obi-Wan found that he liked it, and one of Qui-Gon’s large hands was cupping the side of his face, encompassing it entirely, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help his little disgruntled noise when after just two more chaste kisses, Qui-Gon pulled away. 

“Hmm even lovelier than I imagined,” he smiled, before chuckling at Obi-Wan’s pout and kissing him once more. “You can thank me some more after dinner tomorrow, if you like.”

“I can’t imagine  _ not _ liking to do just that,” Obi-Wan grumbled, though it was difficult to pretend to be grumpy when Qui-Gon then kissed him high on his cheek. 

“Would you like a lift home?” 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Not one bit, any extra time spent with you is a blessing.”

“Anyone want to ask me if I mind being a third wheel?” Tahl called from behind the door, the fact that she had been eavesdropping entirely unsurprising. 

“Not really dearest!” Qui-Gon called back, and Obi-Wan fell into peels of laughter.

\----------

Obi-Wan was glad that his lectures ended by two on a Friday. It was a blessing under normal circumstances, but as he kept changing his outfit like a nervous teenager before his dinner with Qui-Gon, it was even more of one than usual. 

His eyes were feeling irritable so he had been forced to opt for glasses instead of contacts and he could never decide how he felt about them. But then, he couldn’t decide how he felt about any of his look as he got ready for thaie date - because the kiss in the hallway had removed any doubt from his mind that they were going on a date. 

Qui-Gon had said he would pick him up at half seven and Obi-Wan no idea where all of the time in the day had gone, and he had also said to dress smart casual - whatever the fuck that meant. He was on the cusp of changing back out of his nice blazer with the elbow pads for the upmteenth time when the doorbell went and he realised that he was out of time, he would simply have to hope that he was good enough. 

Pushing back the bit of hair that insisted on slipping forward Obi-Wan adjusted his glasses and cuffs one last time before scampering to the door and opening it. Qui-Gon was, naturally, breathtakingly handsome as always. His long hair was swept back in his favoured half-tail, the shots of grey running through it making him look refined, the cut of his snug maroon jumper accentuating the breadth of his shoulders, his trousers doing the same to the ridiculous length of his legs, and the long coat he was wrapped in only adding to the picture. 

Qui-Gon beamed when he saw him, and Obi-Wan blushed immediately, irritatedly wondering when he would be able to stop doing that. 

“You look lovely,” Qui-Gon said, voice soft enough that Obi-Wan was helpless to do anything but believe him. 

“You say that about me a lot,” Obi-Wan murmured a little embarrassed. 

“It is a favoured adjective of mine for you, but I can add others if you like? Intelligent, kind, beautiful, empathetic, sweet, sincere…”

“Stop,” Obi-Wan laughed, shoving at Qui-Gon’s chest only to have his hand caught and knuckles ceremoniously kissed. 

“Alright, for now at least. I look forward to discovering new adjectives to apply to you this evening, and hopefully for many more evenings to come,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan thought that even in this brief first minute of their date he had been more romanced than in the entirety of past relationships. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, where are we going?” Obi-Wan asked as Qui-Gon helped him into his warm coat and shutting the door behind himself. 

“Somewhere almost as lovely as you,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-wan tried not to worry that he might be underdressed after all. He was about the same level of smart as Qui-Gon, but he was aware that the older professor didn’t worry one whit for truly formal attire. 

“No car?” Obi-Wan queried as Qui-Gon left his car parked on Obi-Wan’s otherwise-empty drive and guided Obi-Wan along the path. 

“It's a fairly warm evening, I thought we might walk. I promise not to let you get cold,” he said, tucking their joined hands into his pocket as if to make his point. 

“What’s that?” Obi-Wan asked, realising that Qui-Gon had a basket in his other hand and trying to get a peak. 

“Patience Obi-Wan,” he replied, leading Obi-Wan towards the local forest. 

They walked through the trees and Obi-Wan continued to wonder where they were going as they made easy conversation, occasionally asking again and making Qui-Gon chuckle at his persistence. Qui-Gon liked to talk about his herbalism class, small garden and grumpy dog more than anything, but mostly he asked about Obi-Wan, a question about his favourite book lead to a promise to read it and a discussion on the merits of the english canon of literature versus the american, a question about Obi-Wan’s family became trading stories about madcap family holidays.

“Ah, here we are,” Qui-Gon said when the trees opened up on a beautiful hillside, overlooking the town, twinkling below them with the tempered lights of the evening. 

“Four years and I never knew about this place,” Obi-Wan murmured as Qui-Gon started pulling a blanket out of the basket. 

“We often miss the things that are right in front of our noses, if we aren’t looking. I’ve been wondered how on earth I missed you for four years, and cursing myself for it.”

“I’m nothing special,” Obi-Wan mumbled, feeling shy under the easy praise. 

“I have to disagree,” Qui-Gon replied. “I’ve no chair to chivalrously pull out for you, but the grass is quite comfortable I promise.” He held Obi-Wan’s hand as he sat down and set about emptying out the rest of the basket. 

There was, first and foremost, a little heater lamp that Qui-gon set down next to Obi-wan and turned on, quickly throwing out some extra warmth, and then came the food. Qui-Gon explained every course as he pulled it out of the basket, all of it cooked by Qui-Gon and infused with herbs from his own garden and absolutely delicious. 

“It could have felt presumptuous to have taken you to my house and cooked for you on the first date, but then I remembered this spot,” Qui-Gon explained, amused as Obi-Wan failed to suppress his groan of delight at the bite of food he had taken, rich with flavour and only more tasty for knowing Qui-Gon had cooked it especially for him. 

“It’s perfect,” Obi-Wan smiled when he finished his mouthful, before adding with what he hoped was a coy smile. “But you probably could have gotten away with being a little presumptuous with me.”

Qui-Gon gave him a devastatingly slow smile, his eyes feeling as though they were unwrapping Obi-Wan one layer at a time as he ran a finger from Obi-Wan’s temple to hsi chin, making him shiver as he thumbed at his lower lip. 

“Perhaps, but I’ve no desire to rush this. Call me a hopeless romantic, or a delusional old fool, or far too hasty for my own good, but I look at you Obi-Wan, and I don’t see a string of dates with timestamps and expectations, I see forever.”

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat again, and his heart ache in his chest as he looked up at Qui-Gon with what he knew was an equally hopeless, equally lost and found, expression of his own. He swallowed, his throat feeling dry and had to wet his lips before he was able to speak. 

“You’re not delusional,” he managed, deciding as soon as he had said it that it was wildly insufficient to encompass what he was trying to say; that he was feeling things far too quickly as well, that Qui-Gon was not alone on the water here. But he couldn’t worry for long, because Qui-Gon’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling happily.

“That is good to know.”

“I really need you to kiss me again, I think,” Obi-Wan said, nearly babbled, feeling filled up by the gentle chuckle Qui-Gon gave him before he lent forward; it was fast becoming one of Obi-Wan’s favourite sounds, just like the feeling of Qui-Gon’s beard against his own was becoming one of his favourite sensations. 

They managed to finish their food, both of them losing their self-consciousness about behaving a little lovesick already as the conversation continued to flow easily, their wants and hopes for the future lining up so easily that Obi-Wan, who had never believed in fate, had to wonder. They stayed in the clearing long after finishing their food, neither ready to end the date yet and comfortable as Qui-Gon produced another blanket and invited Obi-Wan to cuddle into his warmth. 

It was only the first date, yet somehow, curling into Qui-Gon’s warmth and listening to him point out the stars, Obi-Wan could see the rest of his life in perfect clarity for the first time, and he knew he’d found home. 

\---------

Obi-Wan had always imagined the ambience of being a professor; dimmed wooden studies filled with books and papers as he worked on what he was most passionate about past dusk; a smell of parchment and old tomes; the smell of a burning candle mixing with the aroma of his hot mug of tea; wrinkled jumpers and glasses perched on the ends of noses; maybe even a lit hearth if he was lucky with the office he was given. 

The reality was better. 

The reality was low lighting in his and his husband’s cosy office, supplemented by the crackling fireplace that cast a warm glow on the numerous bookcases. It was the smell of Qui-Gon’s herbal infusions creating an atmosphere that Obi-Wan wanted to curl up in and never leave, a smell he associated so completely with home and happiness. It was Periwinkle snoring heavily from her bed in the corner of the room. It was passionate debates about philosophy and books and science that always ended with a kiss. It was having his forehead kissed and his glasses pressed into his hand whenever he couldn’t find them, and Obi-Wan swaddled in his husband’s too-large maroon jumper. 

“You know I find it distracting when you wear that,” Qui-Gon murmured from where he was sitting at the large desk, grading papers - because some things never changed. The low rumble of his voice matched the quiet warmth of the room perfectly.

“After two years I’d have thought you’d have gotten used to it,” Obi-Wan replied, circling the desk and coming to perch just beside his husband.

“There are some things the human system simply cannot build an immunity to. You wearing my clothes appears to be one of mine,” Qui-Gon said, stoically not looking up from his papers. There were three left by the size of the pile, and he would have the whole weekend to finish them; he’d been at it for hours, and Obi-Wan wasn’t above admitting that he felt a little neglected - four hours without a kiss, he was sure that went against their vows somehow. 

“I know,” he said cheekily, pleased when Qui-Gon finally looked up at him with a raised brow.

“Are you trying to distract me, my love?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted easily, letting his legs spread just the slightest amount. “Is it working?”

“I only have three more papers,” Qui-Gon replied, but he was still looking at Obi-Wan, not his grading, and his left hand had come to rest on Obi-Wan’s thigh, making him tingle with anticipation. 

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Obi-Wan replied, letting the barest hint of a whine into his voice, reaching out with one hand to play with the ends of Qui-Gon’s chestnut hair. 

“Oh my love, are you feeling a little neglected?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan nodded, biting at his lip. “Well, I can’t have that now, can I?” He smiled teasingly, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help his happy noise as Qui-Gon finally put down the pen, and easily coaxed Obi-Wan into his lap, knees either side of his husband, curling into his space happily. “Is there anything particular I can do to make you feel better?”

“You know what,” Obi-Wan grumbled, but Qui-Gon loved to make him say it, because even two years later it still made him blush.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me, love,” he teased, his big hands on Obi-Wan’s hips, dipping below the jumper and pressing against his bare skin, making him squirm.

“Hmm, want you to fuck me,” Obi-Wan relented, relieved when Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan hide his face in his neck as he spoke, the hands on his hips tightening. 

“I’m sure I can manage that,” Qui-Gon murmured, Obi-Wan already able to feel him growing hard where he was sat in his lap, his husband’s cock too big to go unnoticed for long. “Are you so needy for it that you want me to fuck you right here, at my desk?”

“Please,” Obi-Wan sighed, beginning to grind down against Qui-Gon; it would be far from the first time and far from the last time his husband had fucked him in their office - home or otherwise. 

“So needy,” Qui-Gon replied, fondness thick in his voice as his hands deftly undid Obi-Wan’s trousers while catching Obi-Wan’s lips in a deep, dirty kiss.

He whined impatiently as his trousers became loose on his hips, but Qui-Gon was busy sliding his hands under the jumper, his wedding ring warm against Obi-Wan’s skin as he travelled up his sides and across his chest until he was thumbing at his nipples and making Obi-Wan moan into his mouth instead. 

He would never not be overwhelmed by Qui-Gon’s kisses; they consumed him, were full body experiences that pulled him apart from the inside out as his lips were nipped and sucked, as Qui-Gon’s tongue licked into his mouth and mapped every millimetre of him before fucking his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth possessively. 

Between the lips on his mouth and the fingers tugging at his nipples, Obi-Wan was hard and leaking in his underwear in no time, rubbing himself needily in Qui-Gon’s lap. His glasses were getting skewed on his face from their kisses, but Qui-Gon liked it when he wore them, and Obi-Wan liked being able to see his husband, when he was coherent enough to open his eyes.

Qui-Gon’s hands moved from his nipples, one taking a hold on the back of his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck the other cradling his side as Obi-Wan let his hands sink into that long hair as they caught their breath between passionate kisses. 

He could feel Qui-Gon’s thick cock getting hard as he rocked his ass into his lap, his hands clumsily pulling at Qui-Gon’s belt, trying to get his cock free but still by strong hands on his hips. 

“Let's get you out of these trousers,” Qui-Gon said, his voice a deep rumble, and Obi-Wan was helpless to do anything but follow those guiding hands as they moved him to standing and pushed his trousers and underwear down his legs and onto the floor. 

Qui-Gon drank him in greedily, running his hands up and down Obi-Wan’s bare thighs and chuckling at the way his hard cock was lifting up the hem of the jumper, far too large on Obi-Wan. 

“So eager,” Qui-Gon teased, running a finger up the length of Obi-Wan’s cock and thumbing the head. “Stand still for me,” he said, unbuckling his own bet and shifting his own trousers down only far enough to free his cock and balls, so thick and heavy in his lap. “Good, back in my lap for me, there you co,” he praised as Obi-Wan quickly did as he was asked, whimpering as he felt his master’s bare cock against his ass. 

In this first moment, it always felt too big pressing against his taint and cleft, like it couldn’t possibly fit, and knowing that it could, that his husband would fuck him lose and sloppy on his big cock sent a thrill rushing through him. 

Qui-Gon reached into one of the drawers of his desk and found the lube, warming it on his fingers before gently circling Obi-Wan’s hole with his index finger, massaging the rim and coaxing it into relaxing, refusing to do more than tease Obi-Wan for long moments. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan whimpered when Qui-Gon, always infuriatingly patient, continued to tease him.

He gasped when Qui-Gon acquiesced and pressed the tip of his finger inside, Obi-Wan’s body opening easily for the familiar intrusion, sighing happily as Qui-Gon sunk the finger inside him completely, his long, dexterous fingers reaching deep inside of him, stretching him slowly, his other hand stroking the small of Obi-Wan’s back as he sighed into the gentle waves of pleasure. 

Qui-Gon would never be rushed through this, even when they were frantic with need or running hot with passion, and Obi-Wan had learned to temper his own desperation, to let his desire simmer and build, knowing the orgasm his husband would drive him to if he was patient was far better than anything rushed. So he relaxed into Qui-Gon’s arms, resting his head on his broad shoulder as letting the soft, content noises slip from his lips freely as Qui-Gon opened him up. 

When a second finger finally joined the first, Obi-Wan moaned at the stretch, and then muffled himself against Qui-Gon’s neck as he finally started stroking over Obi-Wan’s prostate, intimately knowing where it was. His cock was already drooling precome and he was smearing it over the soft mauve shirt Qui-Gon was wearing, but neither of them cared and Obi-Wan continued to gasp as he was rolled from one sensation to the next and his husband encouraged him to rock his hard cock into his chest. 

They were barely undressed, and when a third slick finger joined the other, Obi-Wan knew they were making a mess of Qui-Gon’s clothes, but it felt so intimate like this, and he was glad Qui-Gon hadn’t stripped the oversized jumper from him, making him feel even more enveloped in love than he usually did. The three fingers started to stretch him with a little more purpose, Obi-Wan enjoying the feeling as Qui-Gon spread those big fingers inside of him, preparing him for his cock.

He shivered and whined when Qui-Gon pressed in the fourth, Obi-Wan feeling the burn, his cock jerking even though he knew Qui-Gon would keep him like this, on those four fingers, stretching him slowly for a long time, until even his thick cock was able to slide into Obi-Wan’s body in one smooth push. So Obi-Wan settled in, letting his eyes flutter shut and rocking his cock against his husband in sweet little rocking motions that were more about letting his desire build and build than they were about chasing release as Qui-Gon fingered his hole. 

Drifting in and out, kissing absently at Qui-Gon’s neck, Obi-Wan had no idea how long it had been when Qui-Gon gently pulled his fingers free and slicked up his thick cock. 

“Ready my love?” He asked as he pressed the fat head of his cock against Obi-Wan’s stretched and slick hole.

“Yes, Qui, please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, proud he could form any words at all when he felt so sloppy with pleasure already, boiling inside of him. 

“Good love, sit yourself on my cock for me,” Qui-Gon murmured, steadying his cock with one hand and holding Obi-Wan’s hip with another, forcing him to go slowly as he lowered his body onto his cock. 

The first breach of his body always made Obi-Wan gasp, his eyes rolling back as Qui-Gon’s cock forced him wide, managed to stretch him even more than his fingers, but not so much that he felt anything but pleasure as he took Qui-Gon’s entire length inside of him. Qui-Gon praised him and cradled him in his arms when he seated himself, always giving him time to adjust - time to simply enjoy the feeling of being  _ so thoroughly filled _ . 

Qui-Gon was pressing kisses to his lips, chaste and filthy, his hands still and roaming as he patiently waited for Obi-Wan to get his fill of the sensation inside of him; it always took the air from him, how deep his husband was, how well he was filled, the sheer strength of their connection. Qui-Gon stroked his skin, one hand massaging the meat of his ass before dipping lower, two fingers rubbing at where they were joined making Obi-Wan feel wild and moan, being the first to roll his hips. 

“You want to ride me, love?” Qui-Gon asked between kisses, his voice strained and his strong hands guiding Obi-Wan’s hips. He smiled as Obi-Wan nodded in a daze, the hands growing firmer and coaxing his movements faster. 

He bounced in his husband’s lap, taking his cock deep and sinking into the sensation of his cock fucking in and out of his hole, wrecking him and splitting him so open that Obi-Wan knew he would be gaping and sloppy until morning, when Qui-Gon would slide into him again, and make him feel this complete all over again. 

They were curled together, the position letting them remain wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing laboured breaths as Obi-Wan moved faster, and Qui-Gon’s hips snapped up to meet him on every thrust, his long legs more than able to brace on the floor and keep Obi-Wan steady. Qui-Gon’s cock was rubbing against his prostate, and Obi-Wan already felt flayed with desire from the how long he had been fingered, and he slowed the movements of his hips, wanting to draw this out a little longer, wanting to bring his husband off the edge with him

Qui-Gon groaned into his mouth, Obi-Wan smiling victoriously as he lost some of his composure, the hands on his hips now holding him hard enough to paint faint bruises, and only growing firmer as Obi-Wan tugged at Qui-Gon’s long hair, knowing how much he loved it. Praise was dripping from Qui-Gon’s lips between their kisses, about how good Obi-Wan was, how tight and perfect, how much he loved him, how he could never get enough, every word making Obi-Wan feel just as full and loved as the cock inside him was. 

Obi-Wan switched between slow, teasing rolls of his hips and bouncing desperately in Qui-Gon’s lap, backing off whenever he felt himself nearing his own orgasm, moaning low in his throat each time but wanting to feel Qui-Gon fill his hole with come as he reached his own climax. 

He grinned cheekily into the warm skin of Qui-Gon’s neck as he began to let out frustrated low growls with Obi-Wan’s antics as Qui-Gon’s orgasm built and Obi-Wan edged them both, finally giving in when Qui-Gon wrapped a firm hand around his cock and started stroking, making Obi-Wan so desperate that he couldn’t help but frantically bounce in Qui-Gon’s lap, finally chasing his release. 

He pulled at Qui-Gon’s hair, gasping into his mouth as he felt himself begin to crest, Qui-Gon’s cock hitting his prostate on every thrust, one of Qui-Gon’s big hands stroking his cock, stimulation he didn’t even  _ need _ to come, the other wrapped around his back, keeping them close together their they hurtled towards their climax. 

Obi-Wan gasped, breath catching as his body seized, a few seconds of white hot pleasure as his orgasm started, shooting come against Qui-Gon’s shirt and crying out his name loudly as his body started to shake with the force of his climax. Qui-Gon milked him through it, Obi-Wan’s hips still moving the hand on his tightening as Qui-Gon growled and Obi-Wan felt the familiar warmth of his husband’s come filling up his hole. 

They came down slowly, Obi-Wan’s hips still hitching for more long after sensitivity had begun to set into them both, and Qui-Gon’s big hand still on his cock even though he was soft again. He eventually settled snugly in Qui-Gon’s lap, sinking into a sweet embrace with his cock still buried inside of him, always reluctant to let him slip free in his vulnerable post-orgasmic haze. But Qui-Gon knew him well, better than he even knew himself, sometimes, and one of his hands caressed Obi-Wan’s back.

“Now, you just rest right here with me inside you, I know how much you like that. You can stay while I finish these last three papers, and then I’m going to carry you to our bedroom and take you apart properly; does that sound good?” He murmured, stroking a hand down Obi-Wan’s back, his soft cock still buried in Obi-Wan’s ass, the two sensations quickly lulling Obi-Wan into a nap. 

“Hmm. I love you,” he managed to mumble, he heard that familiar, beloved chuckle. 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the soft profs <3


End file.
